


No Ruby Rings, All I Need Is You

by xxxbookaholic



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - No Killing Game (Dangan Ronpa), Alternate Universe - Thieves, Childhood Friends, Detective Kiibo, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Human K1-B0 (Dangan Ronpa), Insecure Iruma Miu, Iruma Miu's Dirty Mouth, Multiple Perspectives, Mutual Pining, POV Third Person, Phantom Thief Iruma Miu, Slow Burn, Swearing, its only because of miu, saiouma is a side pairing but its obviously there and established, thanks miu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:40:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28414041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxxbookaholic/pseuds/xxxbookaholic
Summary: Kiibo opened his mouth to speak but before he could, she twisted around and began to run to the edge of the roof, leaning over the drop. “Woah, what are you doing? You’ll fall!”“Relax! I won’t fall,” she insisted just before jumping. The hood slipped off the top of her head, revealing even more pale blonde hair, and then she was gone into the night.Kiibo ran to where she had disappeared but to his shock, she was nowhere in sight. Not even her hair was visible in the inky darkness. It was like she had never been there at all, the only evidence left behind being a blank wall and a rapidly beating heart.He stared at where she had vanished for what felt like hours, the only thought in his head being one of confusion; she said she wouldn’t fall.
Relationships: Iruma Miu/K1-B0, Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 3
Kudos: 38





	No Ruby Rings, All I Need Is You

Music blasted from the radio as Kiibo sped down the highway, ignoring the brightly colored _45m per hour sign_. He didn’t have time to dawdle; if all went according to plan, the thief would be there and gone in a total of five minutes, just like she always was.

He didn’t know how she did it, and wasn’t sure he ever would.

No car dared to honk at him. After all, he was in a police car, and in that town, nobody messed with authority. Kiibo thought it taught discipline; Shuichi thought it spread fear. But, what would Shuichi know? He wasn’t even an officer; just a private detective.

A tall building came into view, bricks shining with the red and blue lights of police cars. It was a fairly popular museum that sat in the middle of town. Their workers made more money in a week than he did in a year.

Kiibo pulled into the parking lot and rushed to get out of the car, making his way to the cluster of officers. Kirigiri tugged on her hair, frowning at the building. “She’s in there,” she said, pointing at the door. “I would have run after her, but my higher-ups made it very clear that you were the one to go up there.”

The first time she said that, he was confused. Now, he just sighed in defeat and broke into a run, forcing his way into the shop. Hajime called from behind him, “make sure to get the painting back, too! It’s worth a lot of money!”

Inside, the whole place was hot and clammy. If he had time, he would have turned the AC to high speed. But, alas, all he could do was break down door after door, pushing his way through police tape to follow a trail of broken glass.

It was as if she was trying to tease him, leaving evidence by rooms that she never even stepped foot in, pulling windows open when they were way too tiny to be used as an escape route.

After what had to have been twenty minutes of searching, he came to the final door.

The moon was hanging high in the sky by the time Kiibo shoved the roof doors open, surveying his surroundings. Wind blew past his hair and whistled in his ears, causing him to pull his jacket even tighter around him. Handcuffs dangled from his arm, metal clinking together like the hands on a clock.

The clicking of heels stopped when he raised his voice. “Stop right where you are. You’re under arrest.” There was a cackle and then the woman in front of him spun around, putting her hands on her knees and craning her neck tauntingly.

“That’s what you say every time, limp dick. And guess what? I’m still kicking! No cuffs on my wrists,” she laughed. Even behind her hot pink mask, the detective could imagine the raised eyebrow and curved smirk. Clusters of stars lit up her silhouette, making her stand out against the city skyline.

“Well, this time I mean it. Hand over the painting,” Kiibo ordered, placing his fists on his hips. “You aren’t getting away. Hope always wins.”

“Oh, please!” The thief stood up straight, backing away just slightly. Bangs fell to the front of her face, revealing just a tiny bit of blonde hair from behind her black hood. He made a mental note of that. If anything, it could help him determine her true identity. “This genius thief won’t be taking your orders.”

Kiibo opened his mouth to speak but before he could, she twisted around and began to run to the edge of the roof, leaning over the drop. “Woah, what are you doing? You’ll fall!” He couldn’t help it, he was panicking. Was she really so stubborn that she’d rather die than hand over a canvas? What did she need it for, anyways? That was something he never could find out, even after months of tracking her.

“Relax! I won’t fall,” she insisted just before jumping. The hood slipped off the top of her head, revealing even more pale blonde hair, and then she was gone into the night.

Kiibo ran to where she had disappeared but to his shock, she was nowhere in sight. Not even her hair was visible in the inky darkness. It was like she had never been there at all, the only evidence left behind being a blank wall and a rapidly beating heart.

He stared at where she had vanished for what felt like hours, the only thought in his head being one of confusion; _she said she wouldn’t fall._

Later, when he was home and sitting at his work desk, Kiibo flipped through the pages of his notebook, tracing his finger over the notes that he’d already taken. Which, of course, was a grand total of none. He had been working towards solving the case for months and yet he was still coming up empty each time.

_How is she this good at crime?_ He wondered. No matter how disgusting it was to have a literal talent in thievery, he couldn’t deny that he was impressed. Evading over six full-on police chases and stealing from top-notch companies? That had to take some skill.

_But_ , Kiibo thought, grinning to himself as he picked up a pencil and started writing, _her luck won’t be lasting for wrong._

With one last look at his journal, he flipped the cover shut.

_**Blonde hair,** the note read in dark, neat handwriting._

Maybe he was getting better at this.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

“You seriously didn’t catch him? Again?”

Kiibo was sitting in the back of his local café, stirring a lemonade with a straw and glaring at his childhood friend. “No, I didn’t. And it’s a woman.”

Miu rolled her eyes, kicking back in her respective seat. Kiibo was just thankful she didn’t put her feet on the table. “Woman, man, does it really matter? It’s a criminal, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think I quite understand that logic.” Kiibo furrowed his eyebrows, bringing his straw up to his lips to sip on the drink. Miu, on the other hand, had already finished her latte and shoved it to the side.

“Of course you don’t, you fucking virgin!” She declared, crossing her arms. “Only a beautiful girl genius like myself could possibly know what I’m talking about.”

Kiibo decided not to point out that what she said had absolutely nothing to do with beauty, nor inventing. “I don’t understand why Saihara recommended me for the job, anyways. I’m a data analyzer, not a detective.”

Miu flushed, sinking even farther into her booth seat. “Well, _maybe_ ,” she spat, “he just wanted you to get out of your sad little room. What are you doing in there, anyways? Fucking your- “

“Miu,” Kiibo warned, stabbing his straw into a dragon fruit that was lingering at the bottom of his cup. Once in his life, he would have curled up into a ball and nearly cried about her vulgar remarks. Now, he could only sigh in disappointment and silently wish that he had ended up neighbors with little Susan down the street instead of her.

“Sorry, sorry,” Miu raised her hands in defeat, tilting her head and grinning. “But am I wrong?”

“Completely wrong,” Kiibo confirmed, tapping his foot against the ground anxiously. “Analyzing data takes a lot of work. It’s no laughing matter.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered, looking down at the ground and curling her fist into a ball. She did that whenever she got scolded; Miu was all tough and mighty until you pointed out a flaw in her logic. At that point she’d act more like a sad little puppy whose tail was just stepped on rather than a full-grown woman.

They fell into a comfortable silence after that, with Miu texting someone on her phone and Kiibo drinking from his Starbucks cup pleasantly. Sunlight shined in from the window that sat next to their table, covering Kiibo’s hand in a bright gold and casting rays over the tiled floor.

The worker came and went, asking if everything was okay and if she needed to get them anything else. She didn’t seem too happy about her job, actually. The woman kept taking out her red scrunchies and redoing her pigtails instead of focusing on the customers like she probably should be and glared at whoever asked her for a refill. Miu didn’t respond; just let Kiibo do the talking and polite hand waving.

It was all so familiar; ever since they were in middle school, Kiibo and Miu had gone to that specific café together every Friday. Even when he acted fed up with her antics, he couldn’t deny that he wouldn’t give up their routine for the world. Especially not now. Miu had been even more busy than usual, spending more and more time with Kokichi, and Kiibo was constantly flooded by work. They rarely had any time to spend together anymore.

Kiibo drew his eyes upwards from his drink only to see Miu staring at him, twirling a finger through her hair. _Has her hair always been that blonde?_ He wondered. _Maybe she dyed it._ “Is there something on my face?” He asked, tapping his finger on the table.

Miu went so red that he was almost concerned she would blow up. She looked down, shoving her hair back as if she was going to put it into a ponytail. “Yeah, you look like a dumbass. Maybe you should keep your expression in check before people think I’m hanging out with an idiot. I have a reputation to uphold, you know.”

“A reputation?” Kiibo raised a brow. “Nobody here even talks to you except Kirumi, and she’s a worker.”

“Everybody just _knows_ that I deserve more than a braindead twink,” she bragged, stabbing her thumb towards her chest.

“How am I a _braindead twink_?”

Miu snorted. “Have you ever looked into a mirror? Maybe you _are_ a dumbass!”

Kiibo held his tongue on a less-than-polite comment. They were in public, after all. (Not that Miu seemed to care.) They went quiet again, the staring having already been forgotten.

(But, for a reason Kiibo couldn’t even begin to understand, he just couldn’t get the twinkling in her eyes and the soft smile gracing her face off his mind.)

(There was a reason he wasn’t a detective, after all.)

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

Miu stared at the blackboard that sat in her room. It was hidden behind clumps of clothes and drawn all over with white chalk, showing invention blueprints, a cartoon sketch that Kokichi had drawn of himself, and finally a quick drawing of Kiibo that she had made.

He had never questioned why there was a drawing of him in her bedroom; knowing him, he probably thought it was some weird prank or trend. That was what was most frustrating about him; for a police officer, he was as oblivious as could be.

Her blankets scrunched under her weight as she flopped backwards, looking up at the ceiling blankly. Not for the first time, she wondered what she was doing.

Kiibo didn’t like her and that was that. There was no need for the theatrics, stolen jewelry, and glittery masks. The sooner she came to accept her fate, the better. After all, how could someone as neat and kind as Kiibo like Miu? She was boring and dull. It was a surprise that he still wanted to be her friend at all.

But then again, it didn’t matter if he never loved her. As long as he kept chasing her, even if he was unaware that he was doing it in the first place, she would be happy, because at that point, nothing else mattered.

As long as he didn’t leave her, too, she was content.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

Were car rides always this long?

Kiibo huffed as he stared at the line of vans and trucks in front of him, tightening his hand on the wheel. From beside him, Miu did her best to help by singing K-pop songs into his ear. Loudly.

“Hey, whore, can you shut your mouth?” Kokichi called not-so-kindly from the seat behind them. His legs were kicked up on the center console, forcing them to put the drinks they had gotten from Panera bread under their seats instead.

“Although maybe not with the same phrasing, I do agree. You’re distracting me from the road,” Kiibo added, staring straight ahead instead of looking back at his friends. How did they ever get out the door in the first place?

Miu scoffed, and from the corner of his eye he saw her raising a hand over her mouth. “Stop being modest! I know you fucks are just _dying_ to hear my voice!”

Kiibo raised his eyebrow. “Language,” he reminded her, finally turning his head. She had her arms resting behind her head and a cocky smile plastered onto her lips.

“Oh, shaddup,” she dismissed.

Kokichi sighed, adjusting himself in a manner much louder than necessary. It was clear that he was just trying to get a reaction out of one of them, but Kiibo’s patience was running thin and he was tempted to give in and snap right then and there. Finally, the cars in front of him drove forward. _You’re safe for today, Ouma,_ he thought begrudgingly, turning his attention back to where he was going.

“Hey, when we get to the arcade, I don’t want any funny business. No seducing the employees, no telling children to go be bitches on their own, and definitely no stealing pizza from the diner. We’re going for laser tag and that’s all.”

“Okay, mom!” Kokichi giggled cheerfully. Kiibo glanced at the mirror to see him raising his arms and wiggling in his seat, as if he was attempting to do a victory dance.

“Please do not refer to me as that,” he grumbled, tearing his eyes away from his friend.

“Yeah, he isn’t a mom,” Miu pitched in. Kiibo was about to thank her when she continued, “he’s more like the sexy grandpa.”

“I’m going to ignore that statement,” he said, trying and failing to raise his voice over the two passenger’s cackling.

The rest of the ride carried on in a similar fashion, with the more obnoxious of the three making particularly dirty jokes while Kiibo tried his best to keep the chaos to a minimum. By the time they made it into the parking lot, he was seriously considering just dropping them off and leaving on his own. But he did make a promise, and even if their comments were irritating, they weren’t unwelcome, either.

The trio had been friends for as long as he could remember. They helped Kokichi get together with his now-fiancé, sat with Miu as she cried over all of the crushes she ended up having no chance with, and taught Kiibo everything he knew about internet slang and conversations. A life without them just wouldn’t feel right.

Kiibo and Miu slid out of the car, while Kokichi got out last, nearly hitting her with his door. “Hey, watch where you’re swinging that thing!” She yelled, pointing at him accusingly.

Kokichi just laughed, intertwining his hands behind his back. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t see you there!” He said unapologetically, smirking.

“Well fuck you, too,” she rolled her eyes.

Before they could continue their childish argument, Kiibo took Miu’s hand and tugged her inside the arcade. She immediately went limp, like she always did when someone initiated contact with her. He wasn’t sure why she did it; maybe it was because of shock. And even more so, he didn’t know why he felt so proud whenever he was the one to make her do it.

Kokichi followed behind them, humming the tune of a song none of them knew, and he probably didn’t, either. Kiibo paid for one round and they filed inside the briefing room.

The woman working there seemed awfully optimistic for a girl whose only job was to explain how laser tag worked. She clasped her hands together and tilted her head, white pigtails sliding off her shoulders easily. “Alright!” She had a very heavy accent as well, making it so Kiibo could only half understand what she was saying. “Have any of you done this before?”

“We all have,” Miu replied.

“Just get to the point,” Kokichi added, examining his nails. Surprisingly, the girl only seemed even happier to explain despite his rude tone.

“That’s good! This will just serve as a refresher, then. My name is Angie, by the way,” she smiled, leaning forward as if she was letting them all in on a secret. The girl continued on to explain the rules that all of them had already heard at least a million years, pointing at a bulletin board and explaining each highlighted topic.

When she was finally done, they were given vests and sent into the room. Because of the obvious lack of people, there were no teams. It was one man for himself, just like they liked it.

Kiibo leaped over a block and kneeled down behind it, glancing side to side. His gun sat in his hands, light and easy to carry around. From across the room, he could hear Kokichi snickering and Miu screaming, “you failed abortion! Come back here!”

Kiibo brought his hand up to his mouth in an attempt to muffle his giggles. In public, they were an embarrassment, but when they were playing and competing like this, he couldn’t help but enjoy the petty insults.

He didn’t even notice the girl sneaking up on him until his vest was already blinking. Kiibo whipped his head up to see Miu standing across from him, gun still pointing at his body and eyes crinkling. Even in the dark, he could tell how absolutely overjoyed she was, head tilted and smiling in a way that didn’t feel fake or cocky. Rather, it felt warm and real. He found himself wanting to bask in that light forever. He wanted to grab her hand and never let go, or pull her close until their foreheads touched.

Instead, he lost balance and fell backwards, legs kicking up in the air. Miu’s laughter only grew louder. Just as he was about to whip up and shoot her back, she turned around and fled, her footsteps light. She disappeared into the distance much quicker than she used to. _Had she been working out?_ Kiibo wondered, pushing himself up to chase after her.

She hadn’t said anything about going to the gym or jogging but she must have. _I guess that means I’ll have to step it up, too, if I want to win against her,_ he frowned in concentration, picking up the pace.

Kokichi jumped in front of him and proceeded to shoot him right in the vest, as if he’d been waiting for that exact moment to strike. Kiibo froze on his feet, glaring at the two of them. “Did you plan that?” He demanded, but the both of them just giggled.

Or it was more like one of them giggled and one of them flushed at the blinking light that had begun to flash on her vest. Kokichi had turned right around and shot her, too, causing a loud beep to sound between the three of them.

“You said we were in a truce!” Miu yelled, dropping her gun to the floor in defeat.

“What can I say? I’m a liar,” Kokichi just smirked, bringing his finger over his lips.

Kiibo couldn’t even stay angry when the two of them were bickering right in front of him, warming the whole room with their hysterics and (interesting) facial expressions. He smiled and thanked the gods that he was right there in that moment, enjoying his evening with the people he loved most.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

Kiibo had never understood the people who complained about waking up early before work. He had always been a morning person. In fact, he kind of liked getting up before the sun rose. It meant he got to have an early start.

Still, even he had boundaries, and he drew the line at running through the halls of a jewelry shop at two in the morning. And yet, that was what he was doing.

He grabbed the wall to steady himself. Colored circles and stars still settled behind his eyelids, reminding him of just how late he’d gone to sleep the night before. The only thing keeping him from falling asleep on the spot was the taunting laugh of the woman in front of him.

Taking one more deep breath, he stood up straight and continued racing after the thief, swerving around walls and skipping over loose floorboards. It was almost like she had prepared for this, with the way she dodged obstacles without even breaking a sweat.

“Why do you even need five ruby rings?” He yelled between gasps. Instead of a response, Kiibo got the sound of a shutting door. He sighed before turning the last corner and stumbling towards the backdoor, pushing it open.

She was already inside, staring directly at him and laughing. “Why would I tell you?”

“Because I’m the police, god damnit!” Kiibo said, tightening his grip on the handcuffs that dangled from his pocket. “You’re breaking the law. Just give up.”

“Do you really think I’m such an idiot that I don’t know that much?” She asked, crossing her arms and turning up her nose. “God, you’re dense!”

Kiibo rolled his eyes, clicking the cuffs open and reaching for her. Just before he could grip onto the thief’s arm, she stumbled away, dropping to the floor. “Shit,” she muttered, rubbing her ankle.

“Woah!” Kiibo yelped, shocked by the sudden movement. “What happened?”

“I just tripped,” even with the mask covering her face, he could imagine the tiny little frown plastered to her face. (How could he visualize an expression he’s never seen? He didn’t know how to answer that other than it felt right. There was something about her voice, her language, her demeanor, that felt familiar, almost joyfully so. That must have been the reason why instead of hooking metal to her wrists and escorting her to a car, he leaned down and hovered his hands over her leg.)

“Is it broken?”

“Hell no!” She cackled, placing her palm on the ground and pushing herself up. “You really think something as small as this would stop me from getting away? Well, you’d be wrong!” Despite how confident she sounded; it was clear that she was struggling to even just stand up.

“You’re clearly in pain,” he insisted, grabbing her shoulder. “Please, let me help. I have a gauze in my health kit for safety reasons. Then I can bring you back to the police and we’ll talk about this.”

She didn’t argue again, seemingly giving up. Just fell back onto the floor, stretching her leg out. Kiibo pulled the gauze and a pair of scissors out of his kit and got to work wrapping her injury and cutting the band aid.

When he was done, she stood up experimentally, shifting from foot to foot. Once she was visibly satisfied, Kiibo stood up and brushed off his hands. “Alright, well, let’s go.” He pulled the cuffs back out of his pocket but before he could even just open them up, the thief turned around and fled, bolting down the sidewalk.

“Hey!” He yelled, chasing after her. “We had a deal!”

“Since when?” She called back, tilting her head but not stopping in her tracks. “So long, doormat!” And with that, she turned into an alley, disappearing into the shadows. He searched for hours but came up empty once again, tugging on his badge in frustration. Seriously? He helped her and this was what he got in return?

After a final look over, Kiibo turned around and began his trek back to the front of the jewelry shop, mentally preparing himself for whatever scolding his boss had ready for him.

_So much for being one step closer to catching her._

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

Shuichi was seriously regretting letting Miu into his home.

For one, Checkers, his cat, his pride and joy, has been hiding from her boisterous voice throughout the whole visit, and has still yet to come out.

Secondly, his usually peaceful and loving cooking sessions with Kokichi was no more with the way Miu was hogging him all to herself, asking for advice on machines and forcing him to double check her disguise.

And thirdly, which was quite possibly the worst reason of all, was the weird dicks that she had drawn on the wall behind his fridge last week. He had scrubbed as hard as he could and yet he was still unable to rid the white paint of her indecency. Where Kokichi thought it was hilarious, he thought it was an insult to their apartment.

But, of course, his regret didn’t matter when Miu was sitting in his dining room and cackling up a storm.

“Everyone is going to know who you are if you decide to wear that glittery mess,” Kokichi said, tapping something on the paper that sat between them. Shuichi couldn’t see the details from where he was standing, but he guessed it was some kind of outfit blueprint.

“So? I want to stand out, not stay in the shadows.”

“That’s kind of the point, you know. Why else would you be called a _phantom thief_?” He asked.

“Why, you little- “ Shuichi didn’t even know why she was getting mad, and he was pretty sure she didn’t, either.

“Hey, hey,” he groaned, making his way to where they were sitting and eyeing the paper. He was right; it was a sketch of a new disguise. Not quite an approved one, though. In fact, it seemed more like a downgrade.

Still, he had to let her down gently. Who knew what Miu would decide to do if he outright refused her idea? “How about you just line the cloak and boots with that purple? If you do that, it will still be brighter but not so obvious that you’ll be spotted a mile away. Like this.” He took a pencil from Kokichi’s hand and added a few lines.

Miu stared at it for a few seconds, blinking slowly, and Shuichi was worried she’d start yelling. But, instead of wailing, she grinned. “This is genius! Are you the inventor or am I?” She joked, punching his arm with a little too much strength. He flinched but tried his best to hold his ground, shifting from foot to foot.

“You are,” he said, wiping his hands on his pants and making his way back into the kitchen just in time to hear the oven go off, signaling that the bread was done. “Hey, Kokichi, you’re small. Could you get them out? I had to use the bottom oven this time and I don’t want to lean over anything that could burn me.”

“Sure, Shumai!” Kokichi agreed immediately. He jumped off his chair and ran full speed towards the oven, taking the mitts out of his grasp and pulling them on. He got the pan out with ease, placing it on the stove to cool.

“Thanks,” Shuichi smiled, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before moving to do a few of the dishes. He didn’t have to see Kokichi to know that he was running back over to the table as if he was participating in a race.

“Ew, gross,” Miu complained. “You’re like an old married couple.”

“You just wish you were like us!” He declared rather loudly. Shuichi’s face heated up. He wasn’t quite used to other people being aware of their relationship, even if they’d been together for numerous years by then.

Shuichi tuned them out until he was done with food. With the food finally placed in separate bowls, he began to set it out on the table.

“By the way, who said you could eat lunch with us, whore?” Kokichi asked, fake-yawning and hopping up from his seat.

“Nobody had to. I just know that you want a golden girl like me eating with you! Because who wouldn’t?” She examined her nails, not giving Kokichi the time of day despite how happy she had seemed to be talking to him not three minutes ago.

“Sure, slut,” as he argued, he made his way to the kitchen and grabbed a bowl of salad from Shuichi’s arms, trying his best to help set the table. That was one good thing about Kokichi; even when he was being a little asshole, at least he still helped with the chores.

Miu opened her mouth to speak but before she could, there was a buzz from her phone. The second she read the message, her face paled and she leapt up from her chair. “Shit, I’m late for a movie with Kiibo!” She groaned, rubbing her face.

“Oooh! A date?” Kokichi teased, sticking a spoon in between the leaves, tomatoes, and dressing. “But, then again, if it was a date, why would you still be carrying on with this dumb little plan of yours?”

“Shut up!” She snapped, leaning down and tying her shoes as quickly as possible. Shuichi rolled his eyes at their bickering, putting down a few forks and nudging the salad to make way for chicken.

Before their conversation could continue, she grabbed her purse and raced out the door, not even bothering to thank them for letting her stay.

Once the door was slammed shut, Kokichi fell into his seat with a sigh. “Doesn’t she ever learn to be quiet?”

Shuichi handed his fiancé a grape Panta and then finally settled into the chair across from him, leaning on his hand. “She’s your best friend,” he pointed out.

“Oops!” Kokichi giggled, eyes crinkling and fingers wiggling. “I guess the detective has caught me again!”

_Damn right I did,_ Shuichi thought as he grabbed a roll off the stack.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

Birds sang in the trees, clouds hovered over the sun, and Kiibo tapped his foot on the concrete of Miu’s front porch, waiting rather (im)patiently for someone who had already been out there for thirty minutes. His watch broadcasted the time, _15:24._ All it did was stand as a reminder of how little time they had left to get to the movies.

They had been planning this trip for weeks. Texting, confirming dates, doublechecking their tickets. Kiibo had been prepared days in advance. There was no way they could be late now.

For what he was certain was the twentieth time, he raised his fist to knock on the door, but right before he could make contact with the wood, it was swung open. Standing in the opening was Miu herself, wearing a white dress that would seem sophisticated if it weren’t for the thigh straps and dildo-patterned socks underneath. (It was unfair that she looked utterly endearing with those butterfly clips in her hair.)

At that very moment, Kiibo resigned himself to looking like a complete fool.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” She spat, jumping out the entrance and slamming the door behind her with way too much force than was probably necessary. “We’re going to be late, you fucking dimbo.” The spell of awe was broken. Somehow, she had a way of doing that.

“ _I’m_ the dimbo? I don’t think I quite understand how that works when you’re wearing socks with dildos on them.” Kiibo furrowed his eyebrows, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatshirt. Compared to his friend, he was thankfully bland. Maybe people wouldn’t associate him with her too much if they looked drastically different.

“Yeah, yeah,” Miu waved her hand, already skipping down the steps. “It’s an aesthetic choice. Get that? Aesthetic choice!” She didn’t even wait for Kiibo to follow, just expected him to. Unfortunately, he couldn’t find a reason to stick around, so he reluctantly chased her down the sidewalk.

“What were you doing in there for so long?” He asked, tapping his chin with his index finger. “You were getting ready for longer than usual, and that’s saying something.”

Miu immediately flushed, tugging at the strands of her hair and rubbing her knees together. _How was she doing that while walking?_ “Well, I just- “

“Nevermind,” Kiibo rose a hand to stop her. “Judging by your expression, I don’t think I want to hear it.”

“Good!” She curled her hand into a fist, shaking it at him. He didn’t even flinch. “Because I wasn’t going to tell you anyways! This inventor doesn’t reveal _any_ of her secrets!”

Kiibo sighed, brushing through his hair with his hand and wondering why he decided to go out with her at all. No matter how many times they hung out, he would never get used to her drastic mood changes and frankly inappropriate language.

He was about to stop talking when he suddenly noticed the way Miu was limping beside him, her hands clenched into fists and her breathing coming out in pants.

“Hey, are you okay?” Kiibo asked, bringing a hand out to grip onto her shoulder and stop her from walking.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Are you calling me ugly or something? Well, NEWS FLASH, I’m not!” Miu spat, placing her hands on her hips and fixing a glare on him. For some reason, she seemed even more defensive than usual.

Kiibo raised his hands up as if he were surrendering. “That’s not what I’m saying. You’re limping. Did something happen?”

“Oh, that?” Miu’s face went bright red and she brought her finger up to twirl her hair, something he’d come to know as a nervous habit. “I just tripped on my way out, that’s all. It really hurts.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Are you sure? I don’t think a simple stumble would warrant this kind of reaction. Do you need to see the doctor?”

“Nah,” she waved her hand, shoving his hand away and continuing down the sidewalk. “I’m good. It’ll heal.”

Kiibo rolled his eyes but didn’t argue again, instead opting to just follow her. For some reason, the scene reminded him of when he had wrapped that thief’s ankle in gauze and treated her sprain.

It was weird how coincidental that was. (A little too coincidental.)

The rest of the walk was relatively silent, if you didn’t count Miu’s heavy breathing and random insults. When they arrived and got inside, she practically shoved him towards the snack booth, scowling menacingly.

“It’s your turn to pay!”

“I paid for our ice cream last week,” he pointed out. “And I bought the movie tickets.”

“So? You’re really just going to make the lady pay? So rude!” She yelled, pointing straight at him accusingly. A few heads turned to them and Kiibo shrunk underneath the attention, toeing at the ground. Damn Miu.

“Sorry,” he muttered, twisting his finger. Normally, he wouldn’t give in so easily, but with the eyes of what felt like the whole venue on him, he couldn’t find it in himself to decline.

Miu scanned his expression, her face blank other than the blush under her cheeks. He was just about to nudge her forward in line when she finally sighed, tugging out her wallet. “Whatever, I’ll pay. But I’m not doing this because I want to help you! This is just a thanks for that metal you bought me last week.”

“You don’t have to,” Kiibo argued, but Miu rolled her eyes.

“Says the boy who was just complaining about having to pay five minutes ago! Shut yer trap and let me treat you.” Well, when she said it like that, who was he to refuse? So he chose the cheapest thing on the menu and waited right beside her, twitching every now and then at the judgmental look of an employee that sat behind the counter.

He tried his best to ignore the way Miu’s eyes went icy cold when she followed his gaze to said employee, and the way his heart warmed when she gripped his shoulder protectively.

They got their snacks and only just made it before the movie started, collapsing into their seats. It seemed like that was what happened every time they went out together.

The lights dimmed, the audio was turned up, and Kiibo sat back to enjoy the film. And, boy did it not disappoint. Visuals were amazing, everyone’s acting was incredible, and the plot was better than ‘good’.

He just wished Miu would stop making loud comments all the way through.

But, when she turned to him with a twinkle in her eye and hand pressed over her quivering lips, he couldn’t bring himself to care. _Too much_ , anyways.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

Winter had creeped up on the police force, turning their normal blue t-shirts and jeans into cozy black jackets and navy-blue beanies. Snow fell all around Kiibo and a thief, both of them staring at each other with very differing expressions. Wind blew strands of hair into his face and all he did was flick it away.

For someone who was surrounded by police cars, she seemed pretty happy with herself, clapping and grinning. “Wow! You finally caught up to me! Maybe you aren’t too bad at this, officer,” she squawked, tugging on her hair.

Kiibo put a hand up to stop his coworkers from coming any closer. He tugged the handcuffs out of his pocket, not tearing his eyes away for a second. “You are under arrest,” he repeated, standing his ground. “Please put your hands in the air. Failure to conform may result in us taking you by force.”

She took a step back, her head tilted. “You really think a few measly cars can catch me? I know I said you’re decent at your job, but that doesn’t mean you’ll ever be good enough to catch a gorgeous girl genius like _moi_!”

Those words were so simple. Just a phrase, nothing more and nothing less. It was just the thief acting as she always did. There had never been a time in their chase where she wasn’t cocky and overconfident, where she wasn’t teasing and mocking him for simply doing his job.

And yet, upon hearing those words, he froze in place, feet planted to the ground. “What did you just call yourself?” He asked, finger twitching just slightly. The thief seemed to still for a moment, too, as if she had said something that she wasn’t supposed to.

“Uh,” she mumbled, shifting her weight from foot to foot and twirling a finger through her hair. “A spectacular thief? A hot criminal? What are you getting at?” She yelled, crossing her arms and looking away in a defensive manner.

Time stilled for Kiibo. He could hear the sirens coming from his car, other officers all around him asking what the problem was, the thief muttering comments under her breath, and yet he just stood there, staring at the mask that covered her face.

It all clicked into place, like a puzzle that he’d just managed to finish. The ground felt like it was shifting under him, as if he was standing in the middle of an earthquake or stormy ocean.

“M- “ He began, but before he could finish his accusation, the thief turned and fled, shoving a few policemen to the ground on her way out. Dust picked up behind her and she soon disappeared into the distance. A few people got into their cars and sped after her but Kiibo didn’t move to follow, just brought his hand up to his face as if to shield him from the truth.

_Heck._

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

Kiibo looked over the files and cursed himself for not realizing sooner.

The notes wouldn’t change no matter how hard he stared at them. Blonde hair, speedy steps, hysterical cackling, strong language, twisted ankle. Even down to the shoes his thief wore. There was no doubt about it.

He leaned back in his seat, rubbing his eyes with a wrist. How could he be so blind? The facts were right in front of his eyes and he couldn’t see them.

What was he supposed to do now? Was it up to him to turn her in? He’d been a good follower and enforcer of the law for so long that he’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be unsure of himself. If he were to be rational, informing his boss about the situation was what he would do.

But still, he couldn’t help but think that there was something more to the whole thing. Miu may be obnoxious and crude, but she wasn’t a criminal. So why would she do such a thing?

Plus, he didn’t want to turn her in. He wasn’t sure why, but just the thought of being apart from her sent goosebumps up his arm. She was everything to him. Maybe he could help her, maybe he could convince her to stop.

Kiibo’s nails dug into his skin and his eyes fell to the documents once more.

What _could_ he do now?

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

“Look at how glittery that ring is!” Miu exclaimed, pointing at a piece of jewelry behind the glass counter.

“And how expensive,” Kiibo muttered. Just the price tag was enough to break him out of his trance. _One hundred and twenty-five dollars for a ring that was probably made of plastic?_ No, thanks. He would stick with his tan trench coats, thanks.

“Thanks for reminding me,” she muttered, crossing her arms. “You don’t have to take everything so literally, you know,” she reminded him, knocking on his skull as if it were a door.

Kiibo didn’t respond to that, because every time he thought about Miu smiling teasingly at him, he thought about her wearing a mask and evading handcuffs.

People swerved around them, chatting and laughing. The whole situation was too overwhelming. He felt out of place. Kiibo glared at the jewelry as if it was at fault for the hell his life had gone to. His life had been so simple and sweet before he was given that case.

“Hey,” Miu whined. Upon looking up, he saw her scratching her arm and looking down awkwardly. “What’s your problem?”

“I don’t think I understand what you mean,” Kiibo lied, itching his head. Kokichi really was starting to rub off on him.

She hopped forward, arms crossed and leaned down. “Why the hell do you seem so weird? Stop looking at me like I’m not even here! You have a gorgeous girl right in front of you and yet you’re so caught up in your tiny little brain.”

Kiibo furrowed his eyebrows. “I’m not acting weird,” he denied, shaking his head. “I’m right in the moment.”

Miu scanned him for a second, her face flushed and eyes narrowed, but then she shrugged, making her way out of the shop. “Come on, then, Kiibo. These stores can’t wait forever!” She said much louder than necessary, not even bothering to look back and make sure he was following.

Sighing in relief, Kiibo followed, eyes glued to the ground.

He couldn’t keep this up for much longer.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

Never once in his life had Kokichi been so _bored_! (Except maybe when Gonta brought him to a bug museum, or when Shuichi forced him to wait three extra days before putting the Christmas tree up, or maybe even when Kaito convinced him to go on a run.) Miu’s voice was just droning on, and on, and on! It was borderline embarrassing.

He shared his thoughts aloud, only for Miu to yelp, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. “You bitch!” She said, kicking her legs. “This is a serious situation!”

“Huh? What’s serious? There’s a situation?” He jumped to attention, looking around dramatically. “Who do I have to beat up? Just say the word and my secret organization of over 10,000 members will hunt them down in an instant!”

Miu rolled her eyes, “organization of 10,000 what? Cows? Don’t be dumb,” she barked. “But seriously, Cockichi, what do I do?”

Kokichi groaned, falling back onto his bed. “What do you do about _what_?”

“About!” She fell silent for a moment, contemplating, and then whimpered, “you know… Kiibo clearly wanting nothing to do with me…”

“Sorry but you’re going to speak up! I don’t know the whiny bitch language. Japanese, please!”

“Kiibo is acting weird and I don’t think he likes me anymore!” She spit out, stomping her foot on the ground. Miu was like an overgrown toddler with a significantly dirtier mouth, Kokichi noted. (Not that that was a new discovery.)

_I guess there’s no dragging it out anymore,_ he thought, summoning a blank expression onto his face. “Have you done anything to warrant such a response?”

“No! Of course not!” Miu scoffed, grinning. “I could never do anything bad. I _am_ a star, aren’t I?”

Kokichi decided to forego the insult this time. “Then I don’t think he’s mad at you. We’ve known him for years and I think the only time he ever got genuinely angry with you was when you called his mom a whore.”

Miu shrunk. “Don’t remind me of that,” she mumbled, rubbing her knees together.

Finally, Kokichi broke out of his serious state. He snickered, bringing a finger over his lips. “Aww. Do you really feel so bad that you don’t even want to think about it? That’s so cute!” Then he added, “and pathetic.”

“Shut yer trap,” Miu said, tapping her finger on his bedsheets. “Alright, well, whatever. I’m busy and don’t have all day to listen to your rambling so I’ll be off.”

“My rambling? Weren’t you the one who came crawling to me?” Kokichi wondered aloud, scratching his cheek. Miu didn’t even respond, just snickered and shoved the door open.

_Welp,_ he thought, flipping around onto his stomach and grabbing a manga off his bedside table, _they’re utterly hopeless!_

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

When Kiibo was nine, a police officer visited his, Miu, and Shuichi’s classroom. At the time, he had been in a trance, listening to every word the man uttered. He asked as many questions as he could about how to get into the force, training, and everything else he would have to know. To him, that man could do no wrong.

His friends, however, had very different opinions.

While Kiibo studied law, Miu pointed out how cool she thought criminals were. Whether it was a thief who had stolen a million gold rings or a serial killer who had buried each of his victims under a pile of poison ivy, she always talked about how interesting their story was.

He had thought she was insane. Bringing up people who broke the law for a living, pointing at expensive shops and talking about how much fun it would be to just go in and rob them. And yet, even if he disapproved, he humored her.

There was nothing wrong with her, it was all in her way of viewing the world. So, he tried to educate her on social justice, but to his _complete surprise_ , she didn’t listen.

Is that what it was? Kiibo stared at his ceiling, unmoving. Maybe she was just bored. Maybe he wasn’t enough for her.

He thought she was doing fine, so why did she actively go against everything he believed? And now that he knew the truth, what was he supposed to do about it? Kiibo didn’t want her to get arrested. Miu would be taken away from him if he were to do that, and he wasn’t sure he could deal with that.

Shuichi once told Kiibo that he didn’t think police officers were very nice. He explained how they had no sympathy for those caught up in crimes they didn’t even commit, pointed out how they never tried to learn _why_ criminals did what they did. That was the reason he became a private detective, he said. To bring the justice he thought was right.

_Shuichi._ Kiibo turned on his side, staring at the phone. He would know what to do, right? He always did. After thinking it over for a second, Kiibo dialed his friend’s number and prayed that he wasn’t busy.

“Hello?” A quiet voice came from the other line. It was muffled, as if he was talking into a pillow. In the background, he could hear a loud, “more pushups!” and a, “do you want to die?” They weren’t people he recognized.

“Hey, Shuichi. I have a question to ask you,” Kiibo said, sitting up and leaning on a few stacked pillows.

“Oh, hi, Kiibo. What do you need?” Shuichi asked kindly.

He took a deep breath and then said, “if you were to find out that the friend you care very deeply about was also the thief you’ve been tasked with catching, what would you do?” He said it all in one breath, not wanting to drag the conversation out for longer than necessary. It was already embarrassing enough that he had to get advice from someone else about his own job.

Shuichi was quiet for a moment, as if thinking, and then he replied, “I would figure out why they keep stealing things. Asking questions never hurts. And, if they have a good enough reason, I wouldn’t turn them in.” Kiibo couldn’t believe what he was hearing. _But she’s a criminal,_ he wanted to yell. _She’s a cruel person who steals for her own amusement!_

_But is it for her own amusement?_ A voice whispered in the back of his mind. _You’ve known her for long enough to know that she isn’t evil._

Was that really true? Or was their whole relationship a lie, from start to finish?

“And hey, Kiibo,” Shuichi said, breaking his train of thought. “If you really care about them, then I think you need to help them find a healthier way of dealing with their problems than thievery. Being a criminal isn’t a safe job.”

Kiibo took a shaky breath and then nodded. “Will do. Thank you, Shuichi.”

“Of course!” Even from his room, Kiibo could imagine the warm smile on his friend’s face. With that, he hung up and threw his phone on the rug next to him, burying his face in his blankets.

This wasn’t how he imagined his week going at all.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

“This time, she can’t get away,” a voice that Kiibo could only half hear ordered through his earpiece. He should be listening. It was his boss, of course he should be! And yet he wasn’t. Instead, he just focused on walking up the stairs. One step at a time, just a few hops, one after the other. His boots clicked on the marble flooring, his hand sailed across the silver handrail like a lifeline, and he briefly considered jumping out the window.

Never in his life had he felt so conflicted, not even when his mom asked him where he wanted to eat on his birthday. He was hyper aware of everything; his breathing, the way his tongue was positioned, the ringing in his ears. It was all so overwhelming. Nothing fit together anymore. Rather, the puzzle pieces were all scattered at his feet, looking more like foreign objects than anything else.

What would he say when he got there? _‘I know your secret’_ sounded too forward, but blowing it off was low, even for a situation like his.

Shuichi had given him advice and he couldn’t even listen to that. It was pathetic.

Kiibo finally stumbled off the staircase, landing himself on the sixth floor. And, just like expected, the thief was sitting there, swinging her legs and fidgeting with a gold necklace.

“Oh, so you found me after all! Surprising, for someone like you,” she said instead of a greeting, hopping off the counter she had been resting on.

“But you said I was doing okay last time we spoke,” he pointed out, trying his best to remain normal. It was pretty clear that she didn’t buy it with the way she clasped her hands together and leaned backwards, head tilted.

“Yeah, I did! And that was a lot coming from such an intelligent phantom thief, so you better be happy about it!” She said, pointing at him.

He planted his hands on his hips, sighing. “And yet I keep finding you, don’t I?”

“That’s only because I let you,” the thief scoffed.

There was a moment of silence and then Kiibo opened his mouth to speak, only for the sound to die in his throat. What should he do?

Quietly, he asked, “who are you, really?”

“Huh?” She hollered, “you’re gonna have to speak up!”

Kiibo stomped forward, arms dropping. “I know your identity,” he changed his way of saying it, narrowing his eyes.

She froze in place for a moment. Even with her mask on, he could imagine the flush on her face and the deer-in-headlights look in her eyes. “That’s impossible,” she denied once she got over her stupor.

“Is it really, Miu?” He asked, clenching his fists. Why was she arguing? Why was she denying it? He had so many questions, but they all started with one word; _why?_

The thief’s teeth clicked together audibly and she swayed on her feet, hand going up to grab at her hood. “Who’s Miu?” She asked, voice breaking at the end.

“I don’t know. How about you tell me?” He bit back. To be honest, he didn’t even know who Miu was anymore. Was she his childhood friend or the thief he’d been chasing for months? Was she the dirty-mouthed but kind-hearted girl he had always relied on or the cruel, chaotic criminal whose name was stamped on every _wanted_ poster in town?

Her hands shook violently and she stood up, striding so close that they were only inches away from each other. “I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about!” She hissed, stabbing his chest with her finger. “But I need you to stop acting like you own this place! This is my stage, not yours. Shut that pretty mouth of yours right this second.”

Kiibo shook his head. Tears were beginning to bubble at his eyes but he stood his ground, a whole new wave of determination coursing through him. “No, I won’t follow your orders anymore. How long have you been manipulating me? How long has this gone on? Tell me, Miu!” His voice rose and _god_ he hoped he wasn’t wrong.

“Again, I’m going to tell you again, limp dick. You don’t know everything, so stop acting like you do! Stop! Just, stop,” her whole body had gone stiff. Kiibo really wished that he could see her face in that moment.

“I don’t know everything, but I know this for a fact,” he growled. At that point, he was desperate. For what? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he wanted answers, and if Miu wasn’t going to make the first move, he would.

Without sparing another thought, he brought his hand up and ripped the mask off her face. Her hood fell backward and every wish he’d made that night went to hell.

Standing before him was his dear friend Miu, tears streaking down her face and hair a mess. She had smudged eyeliner on her eyelid and quivering lips, as if she was forcing herself to stay calm. But the moment he got a good look at her, she seemed to give him. Sobs wracked her body and she dropped to the ground, legs outstretched in front of her and gloved hands rubbing at her cheeks.

“Are you happy now, you dumb fuck?” She demanded between whimpers. “Is this what you wanted? God, you’re so stupid!”

This time, Kiibo was the one frozen with shock. Instead of speaking, he just stood there, watching her break down right in front of him. The whole situation was out of control. An officer could run in at any second, she could stand up, reveal that it was just a second mask and jump out the window. Hell, nothing about this case had been in his control.

“Why?” He finally asked, grabbing at the hem of his shirt.

“Huh?” She screamed, jolting her head to the side as if she was a broken bobblehead. “You’re going to have to speak the fuck up! I can’t hear your goddamn, annoying ass voice. What’s your problem, anyway? Acting all distant, worrying me, and then throwing me right under the bus? What’s next, calling your little buddies and telling them to bring a gun while they’re at it?”

He flinched under her piercing glare. _It’s just a front,_ the sane part of his brain reminded him. _She’s freaked out so she’s acting mad instead. You just need to stay calm._

“Why did you do this? Do you really hate me that much?”

She cackled at that, her laugh glitched and forced. “Hate you? Oh my god, that’s a good one! Jesus christ, I wish that was it. This would be a lot easier if it were. Kiibo, you fucker, I lo- “ she broke off before finishing her sentence, face going flushed and tears falling even quicker. “I liked you,” she muttered.

“What?” Kiibo asked. He heard her; no, that wasn’t it. The whole confession was just so random, so out of place. And was it even possible that could be the case, after everything?

“I said I liked you, god damn it!” Miu yelled the next part, slamming her hand on the ground. “But of course, it was obvious that you would never feel the same way. Why would you? And I thought I was okay with that at first. I mean, just look at me,” she gestured to herself. “I’m a snack.”

He would have rolled his eyes at the comment if they weren’t already burning.

“Except, I’m not okay with it! I don’t want you to leave me, too. Then all I’d have left is Kokichi and I think I’d go insane with his company.” She pulled her knees up to her chest, nose turned down.

“But how did that turn to this?” Kiibo asked, trying his best to ignore how hot his face had begun to feel. “Into crime, I mean.”

“Because I came up with a plan!” Miu suddenly hopped to her feat, gesturing wildly. “If you were forced to hunt me down, even if it was to capture me, you wouldn’t be able to abandon me! No matter what, you’d be chasing me. Aren’t I so smart?” She grinned shakily. Her face was still a mess and tears were still dripping off her chin, and yet she sounded so confident in herself. Like she was proud of what she had done.

“That’s crazy,” Kiibo shook his head, tugging at his sleeve. “You didn’t have to do this just to get me to stay with you! Just talk to me!”

Miu shook her head wildly. “You don’t understand.” Wind came in through an open window, blowing her hair over her shoulders. “Even if I did tell you, what would that do? I’m boring without a mask, aren’t I? Just a foul-mouthed inventor. But like this? I’m amazing! Nobody can get in my way, even the law. You want me when I’m like this, don’t you? You preferred this version of me, right?”

Kiibo tried to refute her statements but she interrupted him, “all I heard about was ‘the thief’ this and ‘she stole’ that! But now that you’ve exposed my identity, it’s too late! Time has run out and now you’re stuck with plain old me. Too bad, so sad. Fuck you!”

“Enough!” Now, Kiibo actually was crying. “None of what you just said is true. None of it!” He sobbed, grabbing her shoulders. At that point, he wasn’t sure if it was for Miu or himself. “I don’t prefer a thief version of you. I just prefer you!”

Hearing it like that, he finally understood what he’d been feeling for so long. It wasn’t just admiration or his mind messing with him, nor was it irritation or unfortunate fondness.

“I love you for you, Miu,” he hung his head low, ashamed that he couldn’t see it before. She went completely still under his hands, a direct contrast to her dramatic gestures from before. “You don’t need to do anything to make me like you because I _already do_!”

She made a sound like she was dying but said nothing more.

“So, please, for the love of god, let’s just go home,” he cried. “Let’s just go home and talk about this. I won’t turn you in, I won’t reject you. Jesus, why does this have to be so difficult?”

If only his confession could be as simple as standing under a sakura tree with a love letter and not as complicated as screaming over the sound of police sirens.

He could feel her shiver. “Are you sure?” Her voice was suddenly quiet. “Are you sure you really love someone like me?”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure!” Kiibo reassured her. “So you can stop trying to be someone like you! Just follow me out the back exit and we’ll go to my house. We can discuss more there but right now police will be here _any second_ so can we _please_ just get going?”

Miu was silent for a moment and then she nodded. “Okay,” she breathed, taking a step backwards and grabbing his hand. “Okay, let’s go.”

Kiibo wasted no time swerving towards a totally separate hallway, his friend(?) being tugged after him like a ragdoll.

They ran until the fire escape came into sight. As quickly as they could, they ran down to the first floor, shoving the back door open and rushing in the direction of home.

All of a sudden, Miu started laughing. Kiibo didn’t stop but he did look back at her, raising a brow. That only made her giggle even more, eyes crinkled and lips twisted. “God, that was so cheesy!”

Before he knew it, Kiibo was laughing, too. He had no idea what had gotten into him. This was a serious situation! He should be focusing! But instead he was snickering, turning around just slightly to grab her other hand.

They sped walked backwards from there, spinning and turning around the road. Cars came and went but Kiibo could only half hear them. Everything in the world faded to black except for Miu. Miu and her curly hair, Miu and her glittering eyes, Miu and her dirty jokes. Just Miu.

Jeez, what would nine-year-old Kiibo think if he knew that he was dancing in the street with a criminal?

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

“Hey, limp dick!” Kiibo heard from behind him. He turned around on his knees to see Miu pulling a hot pink mask out of a messily cut open box. “Look at this!”

Just the sight made him shiver. “You kept that?” He asked. If he wasn’t currently holding onto a box of silverware, he would have pinched his nose.

“Yup!” Miu cheered, holding it up even higher. “It’s proof that I’m a fuckin’ badass!”

Kiibo rolled his eyes, turning back around and continuing to unpack their kitchen supplies. “I think you’d believe that even without evidence,” he dismissed, dropping a pack of paper plates next to his feet.

“Jeez, you don’t have to be such a bore,” Miu said. There was a plopping sound and then she seemingly began to continue rummaging through their box of blankets. In the past, after hearing the profanities she had begun to mumble under her breath, he would have scolded her. Now, he just smiled and shook his head. _She never changes,_ he thought, not unhappily.

“I’m not a bore, I’m being reasonable,” he argued, turning back around. She twisted her head back to look him directly in the eye. “If the police were to find that, you’d be arrested on the spot.”

She cackled, placing a hand on her chest. “Wow! Ever since being fired from your job, you’ve been really eager to break the law.”

“I think that’s a given if I want to date someone like you,” he shrugged. Immediately, her whole face went a familiar shade of bright red, and her fingers found their way into her hair.

“Don’t say it like that,” she muttered, eyes downcast. “It’s embarrassing.”

Kiibo reached a hand out and placed it on her cheek, forcing her to look at him. “You deserve to know the truth,” he admitted, “ever since we got together, I’ve never been happier.”

Miu whined at the sudden confession, dropping her shoulders. Even with her reaction, however, he could tell she was happy by the way her eyes twinkled. Finally, after a few seconds of silence, she said, “I guess I’m happy with you, too.”

Kiibo took a few more seconds to stare at her, smile widening, before he turned around and continued sorting through boxes. “I’ll make dinner if you want me to,” he offered, changing the subject. The last thing he wanted was for her to be uncomfortable.

“You better!” Miu’s voice rose once again, even if it was still a little bit shaky. “I do so much in this relationship. The least you can do is make some sticky rice.”

He decided not to argue with her, mostly because he knew it wasn’t something he could win. The truth was, she did do a lot for their relationship. Although Kiibo tried his best to find a good paying job and steady paycheck, he knew that her inventions were getting way more money in a day than he did in a whole month.

So, she was right. The least he could do was cook.

(And shower her in the love he knew she deserved.)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! This was super fun to write, I was totally caught in the world. Writing this also gave me a whole new appreciation for Miu's character and even got me to do all of her free time events and dating events. I listened to a lot of music while writing this as well, such as drift away, the villain i appear to be, snow, and your reality. My tumblr is xxxbookaholic if you're interested.  
> I'm sorry for the strong language but you clicked on this knowing it's Miu, so what do you expect?  
> If possible, could you please leave a comment + kudos? It really encourages me to write and I just love when you do!!!  
> Have a nice rest of your day/night.


End file.
